


Not Dating

by brandymallory



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-14 19:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandymallory/pseuds/brandymallory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't dating though, just sleeping together. </p><p>A series of stories from the 3 years Jean Kirstein & Mikasa Ackerman were not dating each other. </p><p>Almost Smut, but really just dirty fluff for now. Modern AU, Characters and additional pairings to be added as they appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Comfortable Habits

Year 2: May

 

Late night knocks on his apartment door weren't a rare occurrence, but he would never be completely used to dragging himself out of bed at two am to answer them.

  
He flicked on the apartment hallway light, not bothering to throw on a shirt and sleepily stumbling to the door in just his pajama pants. He already knew who it had to be anyway.

  
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he mumbled with a yawn as his guest knocked again, before he unlocked the door and opened it, “Learn to fucking wait for once.”

  
“I don’t wait,” A very grumpy looking Mikasa Ackerman retorted as she pushed passed him into the apartment, pulling off her coat and hanging it on the rack before bending over to zip down the high riding boots, “Sorry to wake you, I left my key at home when I stormed out in a blind rage.”

  
Jean smirked, taking in a rather sparkly tank top over her tight jeans, shoulder length black hair half pulled up in a ponytail, “Were you guys out tonight?”

  
“Yeah,” She finished stepping out of her boots and unraveled her long black scarf from around her neck, “Armin got a promotion so we went out to eat, which turned into the fucking bar of course.”

  
Yawning again, Jean moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and leaning down to kiss her neck, “And what did your wonderful foster brother do to piss you off this time?”

  
“He brought that fucking Annie girl home again,” She lent back against him, closing her eyes as her continued to lay kisses on her neck, moving up to nibble on her ear.

  
“That’s the girl with the big nose isn't it?”  
“Yup,”

  
“The one you hate of course,” he let go of her, leading the way back to the bedroom, “I thought he stopped seeing her.”

  
“I thought so to,” Mikasa followed him, shutting the bedroom door behind her, “Is Marco home?”

  
Jean sat down on the edge of the bed and she straddled his lap, running her hands up and down his chest, “No, still in Mexico.”

  
“Good,” She weaved her hands into his hair and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him as his hands settled on her hips, “I don’t like being quiet.”

  
Jean didn’t think he’d ever get over kissing Mikasa, let alone being able to run his hands over her body or any other of the various intimate activities they’d been doing for the past year.

  
They weren't dating though, just sleeping together. And occasionally going out for supper or a movie. Or shopping for new shower curtains when Mikasa noted the one in the bathroom him and Marco (and her at least once a week) shared, was ripped.

  
He pulled off her shirt and quickly undid her bra, lips leaving her as they latched onto a nipple playing with it while his hand groped the other one. She once complained they were too small, but he practically worshiped them, and had thus learnt exactly how to touch them to drive her crazy.

  
But not dating. They were not together.

  
She ground herself into the hardening bulge in this pajama pants, “Fuck Jean, I’ve needed this all week.”

  
“You could have come over on Tuesday,” he undid her jeans, sliding his hands under her panties, “Or Wednesday, Thursday, really I’ve been here all week.”

  
She moaned as his fingers played with her, hands returning to play with his hair and lips crashing into his again.

  
Of course, Mikasa was never one to take things slow, as she pulled away from him, standing up to remove the rest of her clothing entirely before tugging down his pjs and pushing him down on the bed.

  
He shuffled backwards as she crawled on top of him, grinding herself over his cock before reaching over him to the bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer. She ripped it over and rolled it on his length, kissing him while she slowly lowered herself onto him.

  
When it was all over and done with, Jean getting up to get a towel to clean them up and Mikasa breathing heavy and trying to recover from her orgasm, she looked over at the alarm clock and swore.

  
“You work tomorrow don’t you?”

  
Jean returned, slipping back on his pj's before leaning over the bed to kiss her and clean her up, “I can be late, it’s not like they’ll fire me.”

  
He tossed the towel in a hamper (one Mikasa had bought a year ago after complaining he left his dirty clothes in a pile), and grabbed a night shirt for her out of his dresser (one that she had left in the drawer that he had deemed hers when he got tired of her bringing an ‘overnight bag’ whenever she visited).

  
They pulled the blankets back and crawled inside them, spooning up as Jean wrapped an arm around her stomach and the other under the pillow (This was a defensive mechanism, if left to sleep freely she would almost always punch him in her sleep). He laid a couple soft kisses on her neck as he nuzzled into it.

  
“Do you wanna do brunch Sunday?” She asked as they slowly slipped to sleep, “Krista invited me and told me to bring you so Ymir has someone to pick on.”

  
“What has my life become when I’m invited to an event just to get into arguments with a lesbian?” He grumbled, “As long as she pays I guess.”

  
Morning would come and they’d both drag themselves out of bed, Mikasa making coffee as he took a shower, before they kissed and flew out the door to their respective vehicles.

  
They weren’t dating though. Just sleeping together and occasionally going out to brunch with Mikasa’s coworkers.

  
At least, that’s what they both had deluded themselves to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be longer but I really don't feel like fattening it up any more... 
> 
> And I didn't feel like writing all the smut. I swear there will be real smut later. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, Sorry it's a short dabble type of thing. There will be more, as in, I have more planned but still need to write it. Not actually together but totally banging Jeankasa is my favorite Jeankasa.


	2. The start of 2.5 years of not dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oddly enough this whole thing is Eren's fault, but we're 100% sure it would have happened sooner or later.

Year 1: May

It all started during her second last year of college. She had lost her apartment and moved in with her foster brother (one Eren Jeager) and childhood friend (the honor student, Armin Alert) and was on the brink of killing one of them (guess who).

  
While often called overprotective of Eren, the kid had a habit of making her overwhelming furious since he had moved away from home. It was most likely his destructive behaviors, which were often backed by some good reason, like when he knocked out that sales associate at Walmart who was harassing Krista or how he ruined his bike after driving Annie home when her ride abandoned her at a bush party. But this time she really didn't even care about the reasoning.

  
She was at work, decked out in the extreme attractiveness that was the standard chef’s outfit, taking her frustrations out on a pile of carrots that she was chopping, when the bartender wandered back into the kitchen.

  
“Hey Mikasa, do you know where they put the limes? They aren't in my fridge, and I need at least five to finish my end of shift prep,” Jean Kirstein, who was wearing a standard black dress pants & white dress shirt under his apron, asked as he approached the walk in fridge behind her. He’d only been working at the restaurant a month or so, but had somehow (magic she suspected) become friends with most of the staff, despite being a complete asshole in general.

  
“No clue,” She replied, continuing to chop with murderous intent, “Did you ask Bert?”

  
Okay, maybe asshole was an overstatement. He was simply blunt, much like her, cocky and couldn't really hold his tongue to save his life.

  
“Yes, and he just sweated more and said he had no clue,” He rummaged around the fridge for a minute or two before reappearing, limes in hand, “So are you trying to turn those carrots to dust or are you mad at someone?”

  
“I’m fine.”

  
“Liar.”

  
Leave it to him to automatically know something was wrong, thinking back on the short month she’d worked here with him, he was usually the one to see right through people’s bull shit and call them on it.

  
“Eren wrecked my car,” she groaned as she put down her knife and resting her head in her arms on the counter, “So I’m stuck taking a bus everywhere until I can afford a new one.”

  
“Eren… That’s your brother right?” He grabbed a small cutting board and knife, setting up beside her and starting to cut his limes into wedges. A task, Mikasa noted, he was actual rubbish at.

  
“Foster brother,” She corrected, standing back up straight, “I promised his mother I would look after him while he was in school but he’s so fucking reckless.” She tossed the finely chopped carrots into a container, “How the fuck do you hit a porcupine and destroy a car? Your sister’s car that she only lent you because you had a football game! Who does that?”

  
Jean let out a chuckle as she stole one of his limes and cut into it, accomplishing six perfect wedges before he could cut his in half, “Sounds like a stand up guy.”

  
“I just,” She waved her knife around, “I’d like him to grow up for just one minute of his life and see that his choices, no matter how well intended, have negative consequences! I’m not his mother! I shouldn't have to deal with this bullshit!”

  
She was shaking in anger and nearly yelling, something completely new for her as a person who rarely showed emotions. What was more new was the fact she was sharing all this with him of all people. Granted, she got along fairly well with him. They talked on breaks, they’d gotten drunk together at a staff party, and she didn’t completely loathe his existence by any stretch of the imagination.

 

“Woah, woah Mikasa,” Jean said in as calming a voice as he could while placing his hands on her shoulders, “Calm down now.”

 

“I’m just, angry. I’m angry and I have no clue what to do with myself because I’ve never been this angry,” She stared at the floor, her whole body trembling, “And I still have to take the hour long bus ride home so I can deal with him being near me while I want to slit his throat. I mean, I love him. We’re family. But I just want to strangle him.”

  
“I can give you a ride home you know. Fuck, you can stay over at my house if you want,” he half joked, giving her a light hug, “Marco’s in China so there’s a spare bed.”

  
Mikasa took a few deep breaths, suddenly aware of how nice he smelt, considering he was on the tail end of an eight hour shift, “Careful, I may just take you up on that.”

  
Jean laughed, letting her go and grabbing a container for his limes, “I could never leave a friend in need, especially if that friend has a knife.”

  
“I wouldn't dare risk chipping this knife on your bones Jean. It’s worth more than you,” she shot back, returning to prep work and trying to ignore the small heat she suddenly felt in her checks.

  
“Ouch! That hurts.” Quickly cleaning up his area he walked out the kitchen, limes in hand, “I’m serious though Mikasa. I expect you in my car at the end of this shift!”

  
“And I expect you to learn to cut limes,” She muttered with a smile. He wasn't a bad guy really; she could probably call him her friend even.

  
Okay, she’d admit he was little attractive too. Just a bit.

Two hours later they pushed through Jean’s apartment door, her legs wrapped around his waist as he tried desperately to shut the door behind him and not drop her as she forced her tongue into his mouth. He stumbled his way into the living room, giving up on trying to make it to the bedroom and setting her down on the couch.

  
“Fuck you are so hot,” he muttered as he yanked off his shirt and got on top of her on the cushions, working on the buttons of her shirt while she wrapped her legs around him again, “I have literally been thinking about you since I started.”

  
“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or as a sign you are a total creeper,” her hands worming their way into his ashy blonde hair.

  
“Fuck you, I am a catch,” he gave up on the buttons and ripped her top open, earning a glare from her before his hands cupped her breasts through her sports bra, “You’ll never regret letting me drive you home.”

  
“I’m just hoping since you look like a horse that you’re hung like one too.”

  
“That was mean. Why must you be so mean to me?” He sat up, a pout on his face as he grabbed the waist line of her pants and pulled them down and half off, leaving her to kick them the rest of the way as he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his own, “Luckily for you, half of that is true.”

  
“That you look like a horse?” she teased, gasping at the end of her sentence as he picked her up and spun her around on the couch so she was sitting up normally, spreading her legs as he kneeled down on the floor in front of her. He pulled down her panties and pressed his mouth to her heat, lips parting as his tongue darted out to taste her.

  
She moaned, her hands in his hair, pushing his face into her as his tongue explored her. He was talented, that’s for sure, and she hadn’t had anything but her fingers down there in a while, so it wasn't surprising when he brought her to orgasm quickly.

  
“Fuck Jean,” she swore, breathing heavy as he came back up to kiss her, “You are an asshole but holy shit.”

  
He smirked as he sucked on her bottom lip, “But a hot asshole right?”

  
She grabbed him and pushed him down on the couch, “You’re okay I guess,” Her hands trailing down his chest to his boxers, pulling them down to let his erection spring free, “Hmm, you weren't kidding about being hung like a horse were you?”

  
Her hand wrapped around him before she brought her lips down to the head, giving it a lick before bringing it into her mouth. Jean groaned, his hands gripping the couch as she went down on him in what could only be described as a perfectly precise and effective blow job he had ever received, causing him to fall apart in mere minutes.

  
She swallowed, licking her lips as she moved to lay over him on the couch, both breathing a little heavier than before.

  
Kissing her again, Jean wrapped his arms around her, “Still angry?”

  
“A bit,” she replied, spreading kisses up his jaw bone, “But I think I know what could help with that.”

  
“Oh?” his fingers played with her hair, “Do tell.”

  
Standing up she grabbed his hand, pulling him up, “Where is this bedroom of yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Second Chapter. It's insane. And I jipped you guys on the smut again but oh well. 
> 
> Only like, 34+ chapters left to go according to the plan in my notebook (and I have Chapter 4, 31 & 32 like, complete but nothing else) 
> 
> The title for this chapter in my planning book is just "They start fucking" (wow I am so creative) 
> 
> Thank you for reading


	3. Good decisions, or Bad ones. Depends on the viewpoint.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully its the right way to approach the situation, but in hindsight we could have been saved a fuck of a lot of trouble.

Year 1, June.

 

“So who is this new guy you’re seeing?” Armin asked from across the breakfast table, a coffee in his hand as he read over the morning paper.

Mikasa tried not to choke on her toast, but failed, coughing for a solid twenty seconds before she could down her milk, and try to put back on her standard blank face, “I have no clue what you are talking about.”

“Mikasa,” he looked over  the paper with a glare that clearly read ‘I don’t believe you for a second’ before setting down the paper and standing up to get more coffee, “Seriously, who is he?” 

“I really don’t know what you are getting at Armin,”

“Let’s see, over the past month you’ve not come home six times. You’ve come back late another five and have gone to hang out,” he put the last two words in air quotes, “with a friend from work another four.  You’ve had hickeys at least three times, and do a horrible job hiding them. Not to mention you’ve been in an uncharacteristic happy mood, you didn’t even blink when Eren broke the sink, which leads me to the conclusion you have either been getting laid or developed a drug problem.”

“And what makes you think I don’t have a drug problem?” she questioned, focusing on her breakfast.

“Pot doesn’t cause hickeys and you haven’t been late on your bills.”

She stayed silent.

“So who are you dating?”

“I refuse to answer that question,” Mostly cause she didn’t really know if they were actually dating or not. Jean and she had never discussed it and to tell the truth, she wasn’t sure she was even ready to date someone at this time. Dating meant some level of commitment, and she wasn’t ready for that at all.

Armin opened his mouth, but luckily for her was interrupted as his best friend walked into the kitchen with a yawn.

“Morning,” Eren grabbed for a coffee mug, bedhead & pajama pants completing the just woke up look.

“Morning,” Mikasa replied, getting up to grab her bag, “I’m off to work.”

“I want an answer eventually Mika!” Armin shouted as she ran out the door, leaving the brunette to sit there with a confused expression.

 

* * *

 

“So are you and Mikasa?”

Jean looked up from where he was loading the dishes to look over at his regular, Hanji, “Are we what?”

Hanji came in every second day for lunch, sat at his bar, ordered something random off the menu and talked complex science into his ear for a solid half hour.  And with Hanji, came Levi, a short grumpy man who ordered the exact same meal (steak sandwich, well done, with spinach salad, no tomatoes and a black tea) and spent the entire time either arguing with them or complaining that Jean wasn’t keeping the bar clean enough.

“You know,” Hanji leaned across the bar to stage whisper, “having sexual relations?”

He instantly went red, turning away from the women to go back to the dishes, “I –I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“So yes,” Levi noted as he cut into his steak, “Not that it’s all that difficult to notice.”

“The smiles, the winks, the flirting,” Hanji started counting on fingers, “The little kisses you give her when you think no one can see you two.”

“Not to mention,” The shorter man pointed his knife towards him, “You’re both terrible liars and she went bright red when Hanji asked her yesterday.”

Jean sighed, knowing he was defeated, “And you guys care why? You’re here for literally an hour of the day at most.”

“I’m just curious,” Hanji replied, returning to the soup in front of them, “You young folks and your dating coworkers. I could never date someone I worked with.”

“You dated Erwin for a solid year when he was your boss,” Levi pointed out.

“I don’t really think we’re dating,” the bartender noted as he shut the dishwasher drawer and turned it on.

“What do you mean, think? You don’t know?” the ponytailed regular asked, wide eyed and looking like they might jump over the counter.

“We’ve never really discussed it I guess.”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but that’s kind of something you should know,” Levi noted, using a napkin to wipe soup off Hanji’s face.

A yell from the back meant his order was ready and he excused himself from the nosey couple.

Part of him wanted to date Mikasa, that much was true. (The honest truth was he’d had several day dreams about their wedding) He’d know her a little over two months and he liked everything about her. Her hair and her smile, the way she laughed at all his horrible jokes (though that may have been more at him than the jokes), the way she looked when she was exhausted and sitting at his kitchen table drinking coffee. He liked her quiet moans, the way she tugged his hair without holding back and the rough way she liked to fuck him when she was on top.

But the other part of him knew for a fact he was in the middle of a job search that could easily take him away from the city. He may have graduated university with good grades, but he was still entry level and had to take what he could get, and if what he could get was across the country it’s not like he could bring her with him. She had another year of college still and though little fights with Eren often drove her to his bed, she had a fairly undying devotion to her foster brother he didn’t really get.

It was, in his opinion, probably better they stayed friends with benefits.  No matter how much he wanted otherwise.

 

* * *

 

 

Organizing the walk in fridge was probably the bane of her existence. Not only was it cold and often smelled of fish, it was also a mess. Nothing was ever in the correct spot and no one knew how to label things so she often just gave up on guess and trashed the whole container.

 Reaching up to grab a box of what looked like oranges, she heard the door open and close, and felt a pair of arms wrap around her stomach.

“I thought we agreed not to be so touchy at work?”

He laughed, nuzzling into her neck, “We’re in the fridge, it’s not like anyone’s going just walk in on us.”

“Hmm,”

“So I have a question.”

“What kind of question?”

“Are we dating?”

She pulled out of his grip and turned to face him, “You’re asking this in the walk in?”

“Well, yeah,” He crossed his arms, avoiding her eyes, “I mean, it’s something we have to discuss eventually isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to,” she said bluntly.

“You don’t want to discuss it?”

“No, I don’t want to date,” she took a deep breath, holding her arms around her and staring at the floor, “I just, I have too much stuff going on in my life with work and school and Eren, and I like you Jean, I really do, and I like this. I like this ‘not committed just friends with benefits’ thing right now because it works for me.”

“I see,” Jean replied.

“And you? Is that okay with you?”

She felt arms wrap around her and looked up to find him smiling at her, “Of course it’s fine with me. I’ve got shit going on too, I mean, I could pack up and leave any day. I’m not really boyfriend material anyway. You may have noticed, but I’m a bit of an asshole. Not something you bring home to meet mom and dad.”

She gave him a weak smile, “So we agree to just be friends?”

“Friends with benefits,” he agreed as he leaned down to kiss her, “Fuck buddies if you will.”

She stomped on his foot and he swore before she caught his lips again, her arms sliding his shoulders so she could wrap her hands around his neck. His tongue pushed passed her lips as she parted them, and she let out a small moan, hips rolling against his as his hands wandered down, squeezing her ass cheeks as he pulled her closer.

They were a little too concentrated on each other, because neither heard the door open, nor noticed that a certain tall and nervous waiter walk in until he spoke.

“Oh fuck, sorry to interrupt,” Bert cried out before retreating back out the door in a hurry, slamming it behind him.

The cook pulled away from the waiter, giving him a slap on the shoulder, “This is why I said no being touchy at work.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss her neck before following Bert’s path out the door, “Don’t say you didn’t enjoy it.”

With a huff she returned to organizing, trying to decide what she’d done in a past life to deserve the humiliation that was being friends with the ashy haired boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I'm updating, it's amazing. Sorry it's utter crap but I write fanfiction for practice not for money so... yeah. 
> 
> This chapter is titled as follows in my planning notebook:  
> "We should stop making out at work so Bert doesn't have a heart attack / the 'we're not dating' convo"


	4. The Existence of Marco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mikasa wonders if Marco is actually a ghost, and finds out he's not in a very tacky, yet hilarious way.

Year 1: July. 

 

After a month of not dating, Mikasa began to wonder if Jean’s roommate actually existed. Mostly because she had never meet him, because every time she came over he was conveniently out of the country.  Perhaps, she pondered, Marco was just Jean’s imaginary friend or some weird scam for collecting pension cheques.

 “So what does Marco do?” She asked one night as they waited for their food at a local pizza place, “Besides travel all the time?”

“Marco?” Jean chewed on a bread stick, leaning back in his chair, “He designs hotels. He grabbed an internship and became really popular right out of college, so he’s always being dragged around the world to work on designs and oversee shit.”

“Hmm. And how did he become friends with a low life like you?” She teased lightly.

“Huh?” He replied with disbelief, “I am a quality guy, even if you don’t believe it. But we’ve been friends since pre-school.”

“I see, so he’s stuck with you.”

“Basically,” he sat up straight as the pizza arrived, “You’d like him, seriously. He’s a great guy.”

“You think you’re a great guy so that’s really not assuring.”

“Do you want to walk home?”

 

* * *

 

 

Once she had snuck out of bed to peak into his room, pondering if it was empty. Or a meth lab, though given Jean’s talent at cooking, she highly doubted it was a meth lab.

 What she found was a bedroom full of knick knacks from all over the world, a barely used bed and a desk covered in drawings and maps. Photos of Jean and various friends throughout the years littered a book shelf.

Picking up a frame with a little grade school aged Jean dressed as a cowboy, holding a Halloween bag filled with candy and crying for whatever reason. She giggled, wishing she had brought her phone to take a photo of it. Maybe, she thought as she put it down and made her way back to the warmth of his bed, she’d have to ask Marco for a copy of it someday.

 

* * *

 

 

A week or so later she was using Jean’s shower after staying the night, trying to rinse the sleep out of her head. She had the day off, and was supposed to meet up with Armin later that afternoon.

The bathroom door opened, and she heard the sounds of someone walk in.

“Jean?” She pulled the shower curtain half open to look out, effectively exposing the majority of her naked body, ”Can you grab me a face cloth so I can-“

She stopped midsentence, her face turning red. The man whose back she was looking at wasn’t Jean.  This man didn’t even look like Jean at all. This man had dark hair, was wearing just boxers and was covered in freckles.

He had also had titled his head too look at her, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as his freckle filled face went bright red to match hers.

“OH MY GOD!” They both yelled in unison after a moment of stunned silence, Mikasa rushing to cover herself as she closed the shower curtain, “I THOUGHT YOU WERE JEAN!”

The other male quickly scrambled out of the bathroom, and she tried to calm herself as she finished her shower. She emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, wrapped in the biggest towel she could find. She looked into the living room as she walked by, blushing again as she made eye contact with the dark haired man sitting on the couch (dressed this time at least, in jeans and a t-shirt from some band she was sure Jean had talked about at one point), and dashing down the hall into Jeans room and slamming the door behind her.

“Good shower?” Jean asked from his place partly huddled up in the blankets, still in his PJ pants. She’d determined he was not really a morning person, because rain or shine she was always up and ready before he even started moving.  

“Why,” She started with a growl, “Did you not inform me your roommate was home?”

“Wait what?” He sat up, noticing she was still leaning against the door, fists clenched, “Marco’s not home till tonight, unless…” grabbing his phone he looked through the messages, in which Marco had sent him several last night informing him he was going to be home in the morning, not to worry he was getting a cab and that he would pick up milk. All had been ignored by the lighter haired boy as he was very busy with his head between a certain pair of legs.

 The owner of those legs was now almost shaking with a weird mix of anger and embarrassment, dropping her towel as she jumped on top of him, fists going directly to the weak points she knew he had on his sides, “Check.” Stab, “your god damn,” punch, “phone for once and maybe,” She grabbed his hands and pinned them down as he reached up to defend himself, “I won’t accidently be seen naked by your roommate! “

Breaking into laughter, and ignoring the new pain in his sides, he looked up at the naked girl who was now straddling him on the bed, “Wait, really?”

“It’s not funny Jean,” She said with a pout, and retracing her arms to cross them under her breasts, “I’m not used to random people I don’t know seeing me without clothing.”

He reached up and pulled her down into his arms, “I’m sorry,” he kissed her forehead, “If it helps Marco is a good guy and he will have probably already scrubbed the memory from his mind and baked you a cake to apologise. Plus he’s gay, so it’s not like he enjoyed it.”

She snuggled into him as he pulled a blanket over them, “You owe me like, five million favours. Including installing a bathroom lock.”

Jean’s hand found her chin and tilted it to kiss her lips, “I will add it to the list.” A second ghosted down her side to rest on her waist as their kiss deepened and she began to play with this hair. Hips rolled together teasingly, and she fought the urge to yank down his pajamas as fast as possible.

They were interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door, “Hey? How do you guys want your eggs? Breakfast will be ready in about five minutes.”

Mikasa jumped off him, her blush returning even though Marco was unable to see her though the wooden door.

“Scrabbled and sunny side up!” Jean shouted back as he pulled himself up and out of bed, knowing the mood was officially killed, “Did you get bacon?”

“Of course I got bacon,” came the reply as Marco headed back to the kitchen, “Who do you think I am?”

  “A bit of a cock block is who I think you are,” Jean mumbled as he pulled on his clothing, tossing Mikasa her pants.

“Marco can cook?”

A wide smirk spread across Jeans face, “You are in for such a fucking treat.”

 

* * *

 

 

Marco, as it turns out, could not only cook, but could cook well.

“You know,” Mikasa stated as she bit into her hash browns and almost cried at how perfect they were, “I had been wondering why there was this expensive kitchen set up when Jean can’t boil water.”

“Hey!”

“She’s right you know, I’ve seen you make KD. It’s a wonder you don’t starve to death when I’m away,” Marco added, stabbing a sausage and waving it around with his fork, “One time he tried to make us jello shots and I swear to god he found a way to burn them.”

Breakfast was not nearly as awkward as she assumed it was going to be. After a short intro of ‘Marco this is my friend Mikasa, Mikasa this is my roommate Marco’ and some light chit chat about how his flight was, the two had found a bonding point: their mutual love of teasing the shit out of Jean.

“He tried to make me breakfast last week and burnt literally everything so we just had corn flakes,” She swatted away Jeans fork as he tried to steal her last bit of bacon, “You think a bartender could at least pull off toast.”

“Guys I’m really not that bad a cooking,” Jean wined as he leaned back in his chair, plate already spotless.

“Two years ago you attempted to make spaghetti at your sister’s townhouse and the fire department had to be called,” Marco pointed out as Mikasa broke into laughter, “Not only did they have to re-do her entire kitchen, but the dining room too.”

“Okay, that wasn’t my fault. That was a fucking gas leak in the stove connection. I was lucky to make it out of there with only minor burns.”

“I once got you to watch the kitchen for me for five minutes while I emptied the deep fryer and you managed to burn the lemon sauce when a waitress asked for an extra severing of it to be warmed up.”

“How was I supposed to know induction burners can boil water in 30 seconds?” Jean mumbled as he stood up to put dishes in the sink, “Why are you all so mean to me? What did I do?”

The other two gave him deadpan looks and he sighed, “Besides all those things you’re currently thinking of.”

 

* * *

 

 

Marco cornered her later as she was putting her shoes on and handed over his cell number.

“Text me if you need anything. Favorite foods, blackmail material, etc.” He whispered, “I also have a fairly long list of funny childhood memories.”

“Baby photos?” She whispered back, a serious look on her face.

Marco’s smile brightened up the room as he held up his fingers, “Three whole photo albums worth.”

And with that, a beautiful new friendship was born.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have wrote this entire fanfic just for this chapter (okay not really) 
> 
> I have big plans for Marco. Big, wonderful plans. (I promise not to kill him, this is an everybody lives fanfic) I like the idea of Marco & Mikasa being friends. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this fairly OOC and badly paced thing I'm writing, I'll try to get better I swear. 
> 
> Oh, and the title of this one in my notebook? "Is Marco even real?"


End file.
